


I'm not Legally Required To Do This

by Grim_Adam



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dwarves, Elves, Gangs, Gen, Gods, How Do I Tag, Humans, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Sorry, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, humans are dicks, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 18:28:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15846909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grim_Adam/pseuds/Grim_Adam
Summary: The special species goes by many names, often confused in folklore. Angels, fallen, fey, to name a few. They live amongst each race as guardians of the material plane. They are thick skinned and have two hearts that beat, they keep peace and don't have a name other than their own. Although they come in many different shapes and bodies, most of them stay relatively humanoid, harvesting energy from their proficient element. Iaoth, the main character, is a bit different than the others. He was born to two multi form elementals, water mother and a fire father, who abandoned him at the mines of Hor Badir where he was brought to the guardians of the cave. In ancient texts, a prophecy foretold the upbringing of a elemental with infinite lives to live, a fallen angel to wreak havoc on the plane, someone who could never fall. In a desperate attempt to clear the prophecy, the guardians accepted the child into the caves, where he must never know the forbidden tales of his upbringing being an angel of death.





	I'm not Legally Required To Do This

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> {Listen, may Iaoth enter this family and bless us. Bring endless heart, God of air}  
> -delva- term of endearment  
> {may he create cave love, summon faith, and curse ill fate these warriors to sorrow. Bring us safe & good faith. Bless you God of air.}  
> -derûndân- greeting
> 
> The name, plot, and character of "I am Not Legally Required to do this" belong to me (although the dwarve language does not). DO NOT USE/COPY/DISTRIBUTE!

Sentos grinned softly at Iaoth as he proudly stood next to the elders on the stone stage. Each elder placed a gem of their own in the boy’s hands. The grand ceremony, where a dwarf is welcomed officially in the cave as a part of society. This was a special occasion because Iaoth is not a dwarf, but a guardian. An official guardian of the cave.

“Hwatum, jordn Iaoth god formr Sartos oen arûna né. Ignh vol nein, Urûr.” Elndric spoke proudly to the crowd of people in front of him. He took the gems from the nealed guardian and began to string them, mumbling prayers under his breath as he put each on. As the ruler strung them, the city of dwarves shouted ‘delva’ over and over again. Warm feelings burst in Iaoth's chest as the village welcomed him with love. His heart soared at the sight of the people who have given him support all his life finally welcome him, it began to bring tears of bubbly joy to erupt from him. A waterfall of tears gushed from Iaoth’s eyes as the ceremony continued, a large and bittersweet grin on his face. His tears reached his kneeled lap effortlessly, as Iaoth found himself unable to hold back his tears. He couldn't think of any moment better than this. When Elndric, the eldest dwarf at the ceremony with his greying hairs and beard in light ceremonial robes, finished he smiled softly and tied the necklace around Iaoth's neck. “Jordn knurlag fûthmér mahl, estuer otho, oen barzûl formun und il vrem. Ignh né gauhnith Otho. Arûna jok Urûr.” 

Iaoth nodded in soft acknowledgment and stood up slowly to hold onto this moment for as long as time provided him. The people shouting out ‘derûndân’ this time as he walked off the stage, the elders getting prepared for the next class of graduating dwarves. Iaoth sighed nervously as he made his way over to Sentos who stood at the way back of the welcoming crowd, each person he passed giving their appreciation and blessings. As Iaoth got closer to her, he could hear her soft laughter. She held his plain white robes in her hands, giving him the last piece of his ceremony.

“What are you laughing at?” He questioned, wiping the silent tears from his cheeks in an attempt to look more presentable.

She shook her head and sighed, “I was just merely thinking of the week prior of today and all your anxious thoughts visible in your room. My dear, I know today has been long and filled to the brim of emotion, but now it is time to fill in your shoes of responsibility. You have a job now to look after these people; you have been welcomed into their society.”

“But Sentos,” he pondered softly, “They fear in my presence. I know this and it makes me feel unfit to watch. Is it my markings? Mine is different than all the others. Stuck in my mind for a while, and yet nobody explains why they cower.”

“Words mean nothing my darling and you let your worries get the better of you. Everyone has different marks. You are just special.”

“Tell me why they fear Sentos, I refuse my blessings if not told!” Iaoth exclaimed as he fumed with frustration. His face begins to burn a bright red and an obvious shift in the atmosphere.

“It's because your marks are of the prophecy that everyone fears.” Slate calmly stated as he walked up behind Iaoth, slipping his arms around his waist and resting his soft face on his shoulder. “Everyone is fearful of the prophecy, not you love.”

“Prophecy?” Iaoth scoffed, turning to the new addition to the conversation. Slate was a simple guardian with his green variety robes loosely hanging over his frame. Slate never was one to care about his appearance. His soft, light brunet curls messily fell on his face, shining in their own perfect way. How could he possibly look so perfect when he isn't even trying? Sentos suddenly put her index finger up to her lips. Slate's eyes went wide and proceeded to lock his lips shut. The two proceeded to dismiss the word as a whole as if it didn't exist. Iaoth blankly looked at them and turned around heading towards the crowd. Gently tapping one of the dwarves' shoulders and begun to kindly ask, "Excuse me miss, I feel so daft for forgetting it," he lightly tapped his forehead shaking his head dumbly, saying this behind his hand. "but do you mind reminding me of the prophecy we aren't supposed to talk about?"

The woman gasped, dramatically placing her hand over her mouth. "We can't talk about those things here. However, from the knowledge, I've received from being in this town for the past week, Everyone knows that knowledge," she harshly whispered and frowned. " I think you are the person we aren't supposed to tell." Iaoth furrowed his brows and sighed.

"Thank you anyway, mam, I hope you have a good day," Iaoth replied with a tight smile on his face. He turned and begun to walk before she spoke up.

"Durgenelyn,"

"What?" Iaoth stopped in his tracks, turned around and gave her a frustrated but curious look.

"Durgenelyn Whiteheart actually," she continued shrugging her shoulders a bit.

"Iaoth, god of the wind and other things I can't be bothered to remember,"

"Death, war, and destruction. Storms, death, war, and destruction," she recited as he headed off, once again stopping him in his tracks. He turned towards her once more with an even more confused expression.

"What?"

"Oh, its nothing," she shrugged wandering off.

Iaoth furrowed his eyebrows and begun walking off again back towards Sentos and Slate.


End file.
